


The Winter Soldier

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Flashbacks, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-29 07:56:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3888457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Teen Wolf/Winter Soldier au!</p><p>Scott McCall is Captain America, a man on the hunt for one of the most dangerous assassins in the world. Lydia Martin, better known as Black Widow, aids him in his chase to find the Winter Soldier. Together, with help of Director Alan Deaton, Cap and Black Widow will face their greatest challenge yet. Is Scott fully ready to know just who the man he needs to stop is? Is he prepared to do what it takes to save S.H.I.E.L.D, and possibly the country?</p><p>More characters and tags are coming in the future! Several characters are mentioned in passing, pay attention! This fic will cover all of CA:TWS and have quite a bit of what happens after the film, please stick around. As you've no doubt noticed, I've diverged from the film's storyline, it'll be a better story because of it.</p><p>If you read this, please leave me a comment! I love hearing what you guys think, and if you think this needs improvement please let me know! I can't improve if you don't tell me!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! This is just chapter one, tell me what you think!

The quinjet silently tore across the turbulent sky miles above the ocean below. Lightning danced jaggedly through the night sky, tearing open the dark clouds and letting loose the pent up rain. Thunder applauded the lightning’s efforts, rumbling around the jet and forcing upon it further turbulence. 

 

“We’ll be above the target in three minutes.”

 

“Tell me about it.” Captain America said, as he stood from his seat and adjusted his helmet. Scott McCall, or Captain America to the world, turned from the gray interior wall of the jet and toward his companion, Lydia Martin. Perhaps better known as her codename Black Widow, she opened a holographic display that detailed their mission.

 

“The ship is just outside the bay, here.” She pointed at the map. “In about two minutes, we’ll drop it here, and here. Your mission is to rescue the hostages; they’re in the control room, possibly six bogies inside guarding them. Agent Deucalion is in there as well. He’s a higher priority. Are you going to ask Karen out?” Scott, startled at her change in topic and tone, looked at the deadly assassin next to him.

 

“What?” 

 

“Karen. From the eighth floor.” Lydia continued, slipping her gloves on with ease.

 

“We’re getting ready to drop in on a dozen pirates and you’re trying to set me up on a date?” Scott asked, tightening his grip on his trademark shield.

 

“This is the only time I ever see you, we’re all so busy lately. What do you think?”

 

“I don’t think so, Lydia.”

 

“Oh. Don’t think she’d say yes?” Scott once again adjusted his helmet and pressed a button on the control panel near the rear of the jet. The wide launch doors began opening, the cockpit and cabin of the small jet filled with the dull roar of the wild wind.

 

“She probably would, but I don’t think it’d be a good match.”

 

“Ah. Is she too weird?”

 

“No. I’m just…too busy.” With that, Scott stepped into the opening, dropping from sight and into the stormy air below.

…

 

The ship was large, yet it still rocked gently with the waves. Had be been seventy years younger he probably would’ve felt just a bit seasick, but luckily his days of youthful turmoil were long gone. Scott couldn’t help but to smirk at his own joke as he crouched at the corner of a large shipping container. He waited for a few moments, then stepped onto the brightly lit deck and whipped his shield at the nearest pirate, sending him to the ground with a crushing blow. He leapt toward the second pirate, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him onto the floor. The others were rushing him, but Scott caught the third with his boot and tripped the fourth as he spun to face them. 

 

A few more kicks and punches and the first of the pirates had been dealt with.

 

He stomped on the edge of his shield, sending it into the air. He caught it easily and surveyed the unconscious bodies of the four pirates.

 

“Sorry fellas.” Scott ran toward the tower.

 

…

 

Lydia peered down through the mess of catwalks and handrails. She had infiltrated the inner-workings of the ship after dispatching a few unlucky guards. Activating her shock gauntlets, she gripped the handrail of the balcony and dropped down an entire floor and onto the next one. There, she grabbed the head of the unknowing pirate in front of her and slammed his head into the rail, knocking him unconscious. 

 

Lydia slid down the rail once more, stopping to grab another guard and use him to swing onto the floor. A few rapid strikes, and the man crumpled to the floor. Another pirate ran up from behind her, but he was unable to avoid her crushing kick to his femur. He grunted in pain, his cries of distress quickly muffled by Lydia’s boot meeting his mouth. 

 

She reached down, snatching the man’s keycard. She cleared her throat and continued walking down the dimly lit catwalk that would take her where she needed to be.

 

…

 

Scott had eyes on the hostages, but his orders were to wait for the rest of the S.H.I.E.L.D agents. Scott peered through his binoculars and could make out the faces of the hostages, Agent Deucalion was sitting at the far left end. He was nearest to the door, should be pretty easy to get him out of there. A brief transmission from the S.H.I.E.L.D agents told him that they had jumped from the quinjet and were parachuting in. If he squinted, Scott could make out the dark parachutes which told him he’d have company within a few short minutes.

 

“Squad leader, this is the Captain. I have eyes on the hostages, looks to be eight pirates.” Scott mumbled into the small communication device within his helmet. Soon, he heard static then it quieted as the voice of the squad captain filled his ear.

 

“Good work Cap. Are the bogies alerted to our presence?”

 

“Negative, we are incognito. McCall out.” Scott remained in his vantage point for a few more moments, then the remainder of the S.H.I.E.L.D agents began landing around him. As they busied themselves with cutting their parachutes loose, Scott stood and peered over the edge of the shipping container he had hidden himself behind.

 

“Are we ready?” The squad leader asked him. Scott looked down the row of agents, each had a rifle trained on a different pirate within the control room. 

 

“Take ‘em.” 

 

…

 

The rescue had been an easy one, in Scott’s opinion. The hostages were being loaded onto the quinjet. The pirates had been rounded up and apprehended, and reports showed that the precious cargo on the ship had been accounted for. Now, where was Lydia?

 

“Have you seen Martin?” Scott asked the squad leader. The man shrugged and offered a small laugh.

 

“You know that woman better than anyone else. You won’t find her until she’s ready for you to find her, Cap. She’s got an agenda of her own.”

 

“Hold up, I’m going to look for her. I won’t be long.” The leader nodded and Scott and he took off toward the control room once more. Agent Deucalion stepped up to the squad leader with a questioning look.

 

“Where’s he going?”

 

“After Agent Martin.” Duke huffed and boarded the jet. He looked back at Cap, who had just broken into a jog.

 

“Captain!” He shouted. Scott stopped and looked back. “Make sure she has the data!” Scott was confused. The data? He’d ask Lydia once he found her.

 

_‘I hope she’s okay.’_ He thought as his own footsteps echoed through the empty ship.

 

…

 

The truth was, Lydia was very okay. She watched with a bored expression as the status bar on the download slowly creeped forward. It had reached ninety-seven percent and slowed down, something she had hoped wouldn’t happen. The computer’s screen showed that there were three minutes left on the file’s download.

 

“Come on, now.” She whispered, tapping the screen. “Speed up for mama.” She leaned forward on the mainframe and sighed, letting her hair drop into her face. She barely turned her head and once again saw the unfortunate pirate she had to deal with before she could plug into the computer. He had barely put up a fight.

 

“Lydia?” She jerked up at the sound of Scott’s voice. He was near, probably just down the hall. Lydia looked back to the download screen.

 

Ninety-nine percent complete.

 

“C’mon, don’t do this.” She twiddled her fingers together impatiently. “C’mon.” 

 

“Lydia? Are you in here?” Scott rounded the corner and entered the room. She turned around and met his gaze. He looked up at her and smiled, his grin stretching along his crooked jaw. “Oh thank goodness. We didn’t know where you were, are you ready to head out?”

 

“Sure, just a minute.” She turned around and plucked the flash drive from the mainframe’s USB port. Scott approached with a quizzical look on his face.

 

“What’s this? The data?” 

 

“How’d you know about that?”

 

“Agent Deucalion told me to make sure you had it. This wasn’t part of the mission.”

 

“Eh, it’s just some software for the road.”

 

“This wasn’t part of the mission, Lydia.” He repeated. She feigned offense.

 

“It wasn’t part of your mission, McCall.” She gestured to the computers. “This was mine.”

 

“Why didn’t Deaton tell me?” Scott asked. His face displayed an expression of confusion and anger.

 

“It’s all about compartmentalization, Cap. If you were captured you wouldn’t be able to tell them about the whole plan, now would you?” Lydia asked as she tucked the flash drive into one of the pouches of her uniform.

 

“I don’t get captured, Lydia.” Scott said. Suddenly, the once unconscious pirate lying at the door’s entrance jumped up and rolled through the open door, leaving an armed grenade in his wake. Scott’s eyes widened, he grabbed Lydia by the waist and dove through the window with her over his shoulder. The explosion showered them in glass, but they were safe from the blast. Slowly, Scott stood and Lydia did the same.

 

“Maybe he wasn’t as dead as I thought.” Lydia said, matter of factly. She shrugged and turned heel and walked down the steps to the quinjet waiting for them. Scott caught a glance at Duke’s relieved expression before settling in his seat.

 

…

 

“You’re keeping secrets from us?” Scott asked Deaton, his voice heavy with accusation. Director Alan Deaton turned from the large window in his office that overlooked the city and looked Scott over. The quinjet had landed just an hour ago, and Scott had wasted no time in meeting with Deaton to discuss the latest mission.

 

“However could you mean?” The man asked. Scott scoffed.

 

“That mission last night. You sent me in to save the hostages, but she went after data. Why?”

 

“It was important.”

 

“And those peoples’ lives weren’t?” Scott asked. He hadn’t slept very well that night before and had made a point of coming to Deaton’s office first thing this morning.

 

“As I understand, all the hostages were alive and accounted for.” Deaton said coolly. He sat down at the large leather chair that sat behind his desk. He pressed his fingertips together. “Or is there something I’m missing, Scott?”

 

“You didn’t tell me you were sending her in with an ulterior agenda. We can’t work like a team if we’re keeping secrets.”

 

“I understand teamwork is very important to you, Cap, but there comes a time—It’s called compartmentalization—“

 

“She explained that to me. What’s on the flash drive she retrieved?” Deaton didn’t immediately answer his question. This only raised his suspicion.

 

“Come with me.”

 

…

 

They had taken a short walk to the main elevator, then to a lower floor. From there, they journeyed to a different elevator, one that Scott wasn’t sure if he’d seen before. 

 

“Name please.” A robotic voice issued from the elevator, much like that of Hale’s Jarvis system that run the man’s company. Scott couldn’t help but to smile at the notion that S.H.I.E.L.D and Hale shared technology. 

 

“Deaton, Alan. Alpha status, code one, eight, beta, zero, zero, two, nine, four, delta.” 

 

“Access granted.” The doors of the elevator slid open and he motioned for Scott to walk in. Pressing a few buttons, the pair were quickly on their way down into the sub levels of the Triskelion, S.H.I.E.L.D’s headquarters.

 

“I didn’t know the building was this deep, Deaton.” Scott said.

 

“Most don’t. We try to keep it that way. You’re about to see some top of the line, top secret stuff, Cap. Sure you can handle that?”

 

“I’ve seen more things than you could imagine, sir.” Scott said. His mind briefly ran through his days in the army, to the recent battle in New York.

 

“You know, back in the thirties—your day, Cap—my grandfather would walk down the street in front of his home everyday when he got off work. He only worked a few blocks from home, so the walk was usually a short one. He worked as an elevator man in an office building downtown, you know. All day long for nearly thirty five years he’d go up and down, up and down. He’d get tips from the patrons, and he’d carry them home in a little brown paper bag.” Deaton cleared his throat. “As time went on, the neighborhood got a little rougher. People were getting robbed, homes broken into. So grandad went out and got himself a nice, shiny .44 magnum revolver. He’d still walk home everyday with that brown bag just full of money, and one day one of the street’s hoods stopped him and asked what was in the bag. So, he showed him.”

 

“What was in the bag?”

 

“Oh, about forty two dollars.” Deaton finished. The elevator stopped their descent, and the doors slid open. They stepped out and into a vast chamber beneath the Triskelion.

 

“Good lord.” Scott caught his breath.

 

“Forty two dollars and a .44 magnum revolver. Grandad never got bothered again.” Deaton said. Scott took a moment to observe the scene before them.

 

Three large helicarriers were being constructed down here. Scott could only guess at the reasoning behind it, but they were much larger than the helicarrier that S.H.I.E.L.D had been based on during the Battle of New York. These helicarriers had been outfitted with weapons larger than life, cannons stretched out from their hulls and into the underground space.

 

“These are our .44 magnums, Cap. We call it Project Insight.” Deaton said.

 

“These…Why was Lydia after these?” He turned to face Deaton. “I don’t understand.”

 

“She wasn’t after these, we’ve been building these a real long time. She was after this.” He pulled the flash drive from his pocket and held it at eye level. Scott’s confusion deepened. “On this drive rests the information of nearly all of S.H.I.E.L.D’s enemies, friends, would be enemies, would be friends, and every person that works for ‘em.” Deaton walked to the edge of the balcony and gripped the handrail.

 

“And these? Why does S.H.I.E.L.D need these?” Scott pointed out at the helicarriers.

 

“My grandfather didn’t get robbed because of his charming personality.” Deaton said. Suddenly, Scott realized.

 

“A deterrent?”

 

“The world is vast, Cap. America has a lot of enemies, as does S.H.I.E.L.D. We can’t afford to be overly cautious, not after New York. At any moment, another wormhole could open in the sky and another alien invasion could occur. Terrorists could launch attacks focused on the American heartland. We need to be prepared for an event like that, Captain.” Deaton said. He gestured dramatically over the scene. Below them, workers toiled like ants, adding finishing touches onto the gargantuan crafts. Scott stepped forward, next to Deaton.

 

“What about S.H.I.E.L.D’s friends?”

 

“It’s nice to have a contingency.” Scott scoffed at the notion.

 

“You’re talking about a flying warship. These aren’t policing vehicles, sir. These are weapons. This isn’t freedom, this is fear.”

“These ‘weapons,’ as you call them can save thousands of lives, Cap. We can stop an attack before it even happens.” Deaton said.

 

“At what cost?”

 


	2. Sierra Leone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott finds out that the cost of freedom is high, and old memories invade his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice, I'm diverging from the film's storyline, and I think it'll be a better story because of it. Thanks for hanging in there!

That had been days ago. In those days, Scott got an idea as to what the cost was.

 

It had been nearly a week since he’d had that conversation with Deaton, and within those few short days a lot would happen. Deaton had been ambushed on the streets of D.C. while driving to the Triskelion by what seemed to be police. There’d been a brief firefight from what Scott understood, one that Deaton escaped from. Scott would’ve been there to assist but he’d been out on a mission. Scott had suspicions as to whether the reports had been doctored or even fully fabricated. Why would metro police attack Deaton in the middle of the day? It didn’t make sense. Since then, Deaton had disappeared, he’d gone underground and into hiding without so much as a word to Scott.

 

It had been during this time that Gerard Argent had been placed in command of S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

Scott was headed to Deaton’s former office, where Gerard had set up shop. There was something about the man that rubbed Scott the wrong way, something inside of him seemed morally obligated to be weary of this man, but Scott being the good scout he was chose to respect the position that Gerard had been placed in.

 

Knocking on the door, Scott listen for approval before he could enter the new director’s office.

 

“Come in.”

 

Scott pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was pretty much the same since Deaton had been here.

 

“Captain America, as I live and breathe!” Gerard Argent came forward and shook the younger man’s hand. “Welcome, please, sit.” He gestured to a selection of chairs centered around the large center table. 

 

“I’ll stand, if that’s alright with you, sir.” Director Argent smiled and cleared his throat.

 

“You’re a busy man, Mister McCall. I’ll be sure to get right down to it.” The man’s tone change to a more serious one. “Someone tried to murder Director Deaton, and S.H.I.E.L.D has been all over the place trying to find out who. We don’t know if he’s dead or alive, he hasn’t made contact after going into hiding. We’d like to know if there was anything you might know that could help us find him.” 

 

Scott stood still for a few moments, every instinct in his body telling him to leave this office. 

 

“Nothing I can remember, sir.” Scott said, the ‘sir’ coming out a bit more acidic than he would’ve liked. Scott’s mind drifted to the flash drive that Lydia had. He wondered…Could there something there? Something like a false safe to stop Deaton’s project?

 

Scott thought about the man in front of him. It was almost all too convenient that Deaton was attacked and in hiding shortly after telling Scott about Project Insight.

 

“Captain McCall?” Scott’s head jerked up and back into reality.

 

“I don’t think I’m the one to ask. Have you talked to his secretary?” Scott said. Just for a moment, Scott could see a glimmer of rage in the older man’s eye.

 

“Of course, of course. We talked to her the day after he’d been ambushed. Are you sure, Scott? That there was nothing?” Gerard pressed. Scott rolled his shoulders.

 

“I’m afraid not sir. I’m sure Deaton would’ve wanted me on the lookout, however. I wish I could be of greater help.” Gerard simply nodded and cleared his throat.

 

“Well, if you don’t know anything you don’t know anything, I suppose. Thank you for your time, Mister McCall, I’m sure it’s valuable.” Scott offered a small smile and turned from the new director and left the office. Gerard sat alone for a while, thinking and stroking his chin. This was unfortunate. Gerard walked over to his desk and picked up the phone.

 

“Yes, command? This is Gerard Argent. I want you to issue an arrest warrant for Scott McCall, also known as Captain America. Yes, that’s right; Captain America. It is the belief of this organization that Scott McCall is in possession of information leading to the whereabouts of Alan Deaton. Yes, confirmed.” Gerard Argent hung the phone up. Floors below, an arrest warrant was being drafted and would soon be posted all over the country.

 

How unfortunate it was that Captain America didn’t just tell the truth.

 

…

 

Scott’s apartment is a small yet expensive one. Standing outside the door, he fumbled around for his keys in his jacket pocket. He half expected for a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to already be inside as part of a security detail though he had already declined. Up the stairs came his neighbor, a young woman who Scott was sure was a nurse. Scott tried hard to remember her name, but it escaped him at the moment. Just as he found the right key and slid it into the lock, she spoke.

 

“Hey. Nice evening, huh?” She asked. Scott froze for a moment, trying to come up with a good response.

 

“Yeah, haven’t had an evening this nice since ’41.” He joked. The young woman half smiled at his awkward attempt at humor. Scott silently cursed himself for his lame joke and pushed his door open.

 

“Well, goodnight.” She said. Scott nodded and smiled at her and shut the door.

 

Inside, he could hear the familiar sound of his favorite record. The smooth jazz and the bubbly voice of the female singer floated through the empty and darkened rooms of his apartment. He flicked the lights on and kicked off his shoes, stepping into his tiled kitchen and fetching a glass of water. 

 

He then wandered into his den, turning the large television on that Lydia had forced him to buy despite his reluctance to spend so much money on such a large television. It had taken him nearly a week to learn all the necessarily controls on the remote. By the television stood a bookcase full of classic texts that Scott enjoyed reading, but they weren’t his focus. On the third shelf was a photograph he had framed, taken in 1939. There he was, with his arm thrown around his best friend Stiles’ shoulders. Both of them were smiling broadly after having spent a day at the lake near the city. Scott felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he picked the frame up and studied his best friend’s face.

…

 

It was 1943, Scott and the rest of the Howling Commandos had boarded the train that was carrying HYDRA’s top scientist and various technology across Europe. They had zip lined through the cold, winter air and dropped onto the train’s roof. Several of the commandos had moved to the front of the train, but Scott and Stiles stayed behind to access some of HYDRA’s secure vaults to gather intel regarding HYDRA bases in Europe.

 

That was when things got bad.

 

Two armored HYDRA soldiers had entered the car and fired at them, separating the two and forcing them to fight the enemy within the tight confines of the single train car. Things went well for them, up until the last soldier blew a hole in the wall of the train, the contents of the car being sucked outside and down the side of the mountain. Stiles had slipped out, he has hanging on by a jagged piece of metal. Scott was reaching, he was so close. His fingertips were touching Stiles’, all he needed to do was get just a bit closer—

 

Stiles had fallen. Scott watched as his best friend fell hundreds of feet into the white oblivion below.

…

 

Scott wiped his eyes and set the frame back down on the bookcase. His eyes drifted to the next photo, a picture of him and Stiles standing outside his mom’s house back in 1936. 

 

…

 

They were coming back from the grocery store on Cicero Avenue. They were just kids, running down the sidewalk, arms carrying the brown paper bags back to their families. Stiles was laughing, his best friend falling behind as they raced. 

 

“C’mon, Scott! Pick it up!” He shouted over his shoulder. He could hear Scott’s heavy breathing.

 

“Don’t count me out yet, Stilinski!” Scott shouted back. “I’m just gettin’ my second wind!” 

 

“Sure, McCall! Let me know if your second wind doesn’t last as long as you’d like, I can slow to a nice jog if you want!” Stiles laughed into the air, his head turning up toward the bright summer sun. 

 

“Hey, wait! My shoe’s comin’ undone!” Scott yelled. Stiles stopped running and walked back to his friend, who had set the groceries down and was kneeling, tying his shoe. The two boys had been sent to the store by their moms who were busy cooking up a feast for the Fourth of July festivities that evening. 

 

“Ma’s waitin’ on this milk, McCall. Better hurry up.” Stiles said. Scott looked up.

 

“What, you can do it faster? You wanna tie it. speedy?” Scott chuckled. But then, Stiles was kneeling before him, his fingers infiltrating Scott’s unique knot and untying his messy progress. He hadn’t expected Stiles to actually tie his shoe for him.

 

“Ah geez, you got this all messed up, buddy. Who taught you how to tie shoes?” Stiles laughed. Soon enough, Stiles was finished and looked up to his best friend’s face. Scott met his gaze, and they stayed for a few moments, just looking at one another. Finally, Scott looked away with an awkward cough. He began to stand.

 

“We better uh, we better get these things home.” He said. Stiles smiled and stood. 

 

“Yeah.” He finished his glass of water and went to bed, the television playing into the night to an empty den.

 

…

 

With misty eyes, Scott finished his glass of water and went to bed. The television played on and illuminated the empty den for the entire night.

 

…

 


	3. Pilot Jones

“C’mon, Scotty! It’s nothin’! Just swing, man!” Scott was standing on the precipice of a small cliff, high above the lake below. Before him swung a tired rope swing, one that was made years ago by local youth for when they were feeling daring and adventurous and wished to swing through the air and into the lake below. At the base of the hill stood his best friend, Stiles. He was shouting at him, offering words of encouragement to the clearly frightened Scott.

 

“I’m not sure, Stiles! It’s awfully high!” Scott shook. He had just turned sixteen, do all the sixteen year olds around here swing into lakes like this?

 

“C’mon, man! The Scott I know wouldn’t back down from a challenge!” Stiles jeered. A burst of pride filled Scott’s chest. His best friend thought that of him? Scott edged closer to the drop off, peering down at the water below.

 

“If I die you have to tell my mom!” Scott shouted. “You’re gonna have to fish my body of there!”

 

“Ain’t nothin’ like that gonna happen, Scotty! I’m right here, if you fall I’ll catch you!” Stiles shouted. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before!” Scott felt his heart leap to his chest. His mom would kill him if she knew what they were up to.

 

“All right! All right! I’m doing it!” Scott shouted down.

 

“Yeah! Way to go, brave man! I knew you had it in you!” Stiles shouted up. Scott walked backwards about a meter or two and gripped the rope tightly. Here goes nothing! Scott ran forward, gripping the rope tighter than he thought possible. He gulped in air, holding his breath for when the rope took him out and over the edge, high above the water. He shut his eyes, and—

Something was wrong. This didn’t feel right. Scott barely had time to notice what had happened; the rope had snapped. Scott fell through the air like a stone, and his vision went black shortly after cracking his head against the edge of the cliff. Stiles watched in stunned horror as his best friend vanished beneath the murky water.

 

…

 

“…-cott, c’mon, Scott! Can you hear me?” Scott could barely hear his best friend’s voice. Where was he? Scott couldn’t see, his vision was a murky, black mess.

 

“Oh God, Scott, please…Buddy, please wake up!” Scott felt pressure on his chest. What was happening? He felt his lungs filling with air, his vision slowly returning. He could make out Stiles’ cheeks, pressed so tightly against his own. His cold, wet mouth pressed against Stiles’ hot and wet one. Stiles would lift up and pump on Scott’s chest, then come back down to breathe air into Scott’s lungs.

 

“Scott! I need you Scott, I need you to come back!” Stiles pressed harder onto his chest, Scott could feel water being forced from within. Stiles pressed his lips against Scott’s once more, blowing air as deep as he could. Stiles pressed harder still, forcing the water up and out.

 

“Oh thank God!” Stiles exclaimed as soon as Scott had rolled over and vomited the water from his stomach and lungs. He rubbed his best friend’s back hard and fast, hoping to encourage more of the water to come out.

 

“What…what happened?” Scott could barely speak, yet he sputtered out those words.

 

“Oh, geez, buddy, the rope broke and you fell. I think you must’ve hit your head, you didn’t come back up and I went in after you.” Stiles sat back on his heels and rubbed his forehead. “You scared me! I thought you were a goner.”

 

Scott spit more water from his mouth.

 

“Did you…Did you kiss me?” Scott asked. Stiles leaning forward and stared for a moment, before breaking the silence with a laugh.

 

“Only to save your life, you dork!” Stiles ruffled Scott’s wet hair. “Good thing I did too, your ma would’ve had me stuffed!”

 

Scott chuckled to himself and laid back. Not that he would say, but he secretly didn’t mind his friend’s lips on his own.

…

 

Scott jerked awake. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his hair was matted. He felt hot, too hot. He stood and opened a window to greet the mid-morning breeze. Birds chirped, cars were honking and people were going about their day. Scott rubbed his eyes and drew a few deep breaths. His dream hadn’t been a dream, it had been a flashback. He remembered that day at the lake, he had nearly drowned and Stiles had to bring him back. It was one the most treasured memories he had of Stiles, one that he hadn’t thought of in a long time. He rested his head against the wall of his bedroom and absorbed the silence of his home.

 

He jerked his head back. His apartment wasn’t silent. He could faintly hear his favorite record being played through the walls. Someone was in his home. Scott dropped into a protective stance and grabbed his shield lying against the wall. He inched his way toward the door and slowly pulled it open. Peering through the crack between the door and the wall, Scott could just barely make out a pair of black boots sitting in front of the chair in the den. 

 

Scott gripped the shield tighter, silently moving through his home like a tiger. He pressed his body against the corner and prepared himself to whip the shield at the man until he turned and saw—

 

It was Deaton. Deaton sat in his chair, breathing heavier than normal. Scott dropped the shield and rushed forward to find him badly wounded, blood soaked into his battered clothes. Scott opened his mouth to speak, but Deaton pressed a finger against his lips. He presented Scott his phone, a message was typed out:

 

**ROOM IS BUGGED. THEY HAVE EARS EVERYWHERE.**

 

Scott looked confused. He mouthed the word, ‘who?’

 

**S.H.I.E.L.D.**

 

Scott sat back, his confusion worsening. What was Deaton saying? Suddenly, Deaton had once more typed out a message.

 

**NOT SAFE TO TALK. S.H.I.E.L.D IS SEARCHING. WHERE IS MARTIN?**

Lydia? Scott didn’t have any idea where the woman worked, let alone where she lived. Scott shrugged to answer Deaton’s question.

 

**FIND HER. SHE HAS FLASH DRIVE. DO NOT LET SHIELD GET IT. THEY HAVE GONE ROGUE. HYDRA INFILTRATED, WATCH OUT FOR ARGENT.**

 

Scott was bewildered. What was going on? If what Deaton was telling him was true, he was only too thankful that he didn’t tell Argent what he’d wanted to know. Scott looked around the room,. He needed to get Deaton somewhere safe, somewhere they could talk openly. But first, Deaton needed a hospital. Scott took Deaton’s phone and typed out a brief message.

 

**HOSPITAL?**

 

Deaton shook his head. 

 

**NO WHERE IS SAFE. WE’RE WANTED MEN. FIND MARTIN, KILL PROJECT INSIGHT.**

 

Scott’s mind was reeling. Project Insight? The helicarriers beneath the Triskelion? If S.H.I.E.L.D. was infiltrated by HYDRA, then those helicarriers needed to be destroyed. Was Deaton correct? If Lydia still had the flash drive, then it probably contained information vital to the destruction of Project Insight. 

 

Suddenly, bullets ripped through the windows of Scott’s apartment. Glass flew through the room, threatening to blind Scott just before his shield blocked the shards’ path. Deaton slumped down, having been shot.. Scott held onto his shield and dove to the side, narrowly avoiding gunfire in the process. Scott heard his front door being kicked open, and he whipped around to see the woman from across the hall armed with a pistol.

 

“Cap, are you okay? Are you alright?” She entered the room in a flurry, looking Scott over. Then, she noticed Deaton. “Oh my God, that’s Deaton? Has he been hit?”

 

“Yes. He needs medical care.”

 

“Leave him with me, I’ll be sure he’s safe. Go after the shooter!” She said, holstering her gun and kneeling by Deaton. 

 

“I don’t know who you are, but you just stormed in here with a gun, I’m not gonna leave him with you.” Scott said. Instinctually, his shield began to rise. The young woman looked up.

 

“My name is Erica Reyes, I’m an agent with S.H.I.E.L.D. Deaton set me up here as undercover security detail for you. You’ll have to trust me, otherwise he won’t have a lot of time.” Scott took one look at her, then at Deaton. He gave Erica a slight nod, then he leapt throw the broken window of his apartment and onto the rooftop.

 

…

 

 

 


	4. Pyramids

A voice filled his ear.

 

“Cap, it’s me. What’s happened?” Lydia asked through the communications device in Scott’s ear. He had just placed it there in hopes of getting into contact with Lydia, and it seemed he was in luck.

 

“Deaton was in my apartment, he’s been shot. I’m chasing the gunman now. Can you track my current location?”

 

“On it now. I’ll be there in less than a minute, I’m taking the jet.” His lungs were on fire. He panted with every hurried breath, his feet hurting as they slammed onto the concrete rooftops with every stride. Scott kept his eyes on the target; a slim figure running just as fast as him, only a few meters ahead.

 

Scott leapt from the edge of the rooftop and rolled onto the next one, jumping up and tearing across the expanse even faster than before. With a shout, he whipped his right arm and sent his shield barreling through the air. When it struck the man in front of him, he’d tumble, allowing Scott he time it would take to close the gap between them. 

 

But the shield wouldn’t hit him.

 

The masked man a few meters ahead turn and caught the shield midair, his eyes burning holes in Scott. His right arm, made entirely of metal, was stretched out and perfectly still, holding the Vibranium shield as easily as if it were made of feathers. Scott skidded to a halt, dumbfounded by the act of the man before him. 

 

“How?” Scott muttered to himself. The man threw the shield back at Scott. He caught it with ease and looked back the man only to find him gone. Scott caught a breath and charged toward the edge of the rooftop. Scott’s hand jerked up to the communication device in his ear.

 

“Lydia, do you have eyes on the target?” Static answered him before Lydia’s voice entered his ear.

 

“Negative. There’s a street full of civvies down here, I’m evacuating them now. You’re leaving quite a mess—Wait!” Scott could hear gunshots. “I see him! He’s down here, corner of 46th and Ford!” Scott jumped from the rooftop and onto a van, denting the hood as he rolled off. He jerked his head to the left, then to the right. Where was he?

 

A metal fist entered his vision and slammed against his chest. Scott stumbled back against the ruined van. The unknown man before him didn’t give him a break; he threw another punch which Scott rolled to avoid, his arm going through the metal. Scott jumped up and charged at the assassin, each punch meeting various blocking methods from the unknown man. This went on for a bit, both of the fighters were equal in skill and speed. Scott slammed his head into the other man’s face, causing him to stumble back. During this brief moment of relief, he drew a knife from a sheath on his combat armor and again rushed Scott. Using his shield, Scott thumped the man’s metal arm, causing the knife to drop yet it was caught by the man’s quick left hand and driven upward, just barely missing Scott’s ribs. 

 

Scott weaved and ducked to avoid the blade’s razor sharp edge until he drove his knee into the man’s stomach, earning him a brief moment in which he slammed his shield’s edge into the man’s metal arm, digging into the metal. The assassin’s left hand grabbed him by the throat and Scott rolled backward, slamming the attacker onto the asphalt of the street.

 

“Scott? You busy?” Lydia’s voice rang in his ear.

 

“A little!” Scott growled as he sent a kick into the man’s chest. 

 

“I have a shot, I’m taking it. I need you to throw yourself onto the ground.”

 

“Don’t do it, we need him—“ Scott was interrupted by another blow to the face. “Alive!” He finished. 

 

The two men fought across the battered street, punching and grabbing, kicking and blocking the other’s blows.

 

“I’m taking the shot, McCall!” Scott whipped his arm hard, slamming his shield into the man’s chest, throwing him back a few feet and onto his back. Scott’s hand jerked to his ear.

 

“Don’t! I have this guy. We need him alive!” Scott panted and he let his arm drop back to his side. He stomped on the edge of his shield, sending it into the air where he caught it with ease. He turned around to face his attacker, but his eyes met something more disturbing.

 

The man’s mask lay broken just a few feet from him. Black pieces of material were shattered all over the street, barely recognizable as the Winter Soldier’s mask. Breathing heavily, Scott let his eyes trace the street up to the man’s combat boots, up his black pants and up the metal arm. Scott’s eyes stopped on the man’s face and he refused to believe what he saw before him.

 

“Stiles?”

 

God, no.

 

The Winter Soldier stood just a few meters from Scott, also drawing deep breaths. He glared at Scott with his darkened eyes. After a few moments of silence, he spit blood onto the ground and raised his head.

 

“What the Hell’s a Stiles?” Motion from a window of the building to their right caused both of their eyes to leap to Lydia, who stood with her pistol outstretched. Gunshots rang out in rapid succession, and many things happened at once.

 

Scott leapt in front of Stiles, using his shield to block the bullets. They clattered to the street below and Stiles looked at Scott with rage, though he had saved his life Stiles delivered a hard and swift kick to Scott’s ribs, sending him to the ground. Stiles drew a pistol from one of the many holsters on his combat armor and returned fire, forcing Lydia out of the window and into cover. 

 

Scott rolled over just as the gunfire ended and looked up. He was gone. Stiles was gone. He looked up at the window from which Lydia had fired. She peered through the gap apprehensively, meeting Scott’s gaze.

 

…

 

 

Chapter Five: Super Rich Kids

 

“Where is he?” Gerard Argent asked the guard. The guard pointed toward the chamber toward the end of the room. 

 

“Back there, sir. For repairs.” Gerard raised his eyebrows.

 

“Repairs?”

 

“Captain America put a gash in his arm.” Argent just clucked his tongue and walked to the back of the room, entering a code into the door and sliding into the room. The Winter Soldier sat in the middle of the room, restrained in a chair. A few scientists stood over him, repairing the cut in his metal arm. Around the room, various charts and computers displayed information regarding the soldier’s activities. Guards also stood silently, their guns at the ready should there be any trouble. Gerard pulled a stool in front of the assassin and sat before him.

 

“What happened today?” He asked. The Winter Soldier didn’t reply. He looked like he was deep in thought. This wasn’t allowed. Argent slapped his cheek. “Hey! What happened?” Stiles shook his head and looked at him.

 

“That man…I knew him.” The man sat back.

 

“What man?”

 

“The man…who did this.” Stiles jerked his head toward his right arm. The two scientists continued their work to repair it. Gerard Argent sighed deeply.

 

“What do you know about him?”

 

“He’s the mission, but…He was familiar, somehow. I knew him. I recognized his face.” Argent looked over his shoulder at one of the attendants.

 

“Is this normal?” He asked. The attendant shook his head. Argent looked back to the distraught Stiles. “You are our greatest asset, you know that? Your work has been gift to mankind. You’ve shaped the century. But…I need you to do it, one more time. I can do my part if you don’t succeed in yours. HYDRA can’t give the world the freedom it deserves unless you come through. We are at a pivotal moment, and we cannot afford to have you begin…malfunctioning.”

 

“I am not a machine.” Stiles growled. Gerard nodded at his arm.

 

“You run like one.” He snapped his fingers at the two scientists pouring over his arm. “Run readjustment protocol. Wipe him, and start over.”

 

Stiles’ expression fell into one of anguish. His lip quivered. He knew what was coming, yet he made no attempt to stop it. This was his life. He sniffled as the scientists approached and adjusted the two metal clamps that came up to restrain his arms. He let out a small sob as they inserted the mouthguard. He bit down, hard. It made the coming pain not hurt so much, or so he liked to believe. The two scientists lowered two metal paddles that attached themselves to either side of his head. Within a few moments, powerful surges of electricity were ripping through Stiles’ head, his teeth gritted and grinding together. Stiles’ muffled cries echoed in the empty chamber. Gerard got up and exited with the sounds of Stiles’ pained screams following him out the door.

 

…

 

“You don’t have to do this, Stiles.” Scott said. “I can be alone right now, it’s fine.” He leaned himself against the door of his home. A home, he noted, that would be a lot emptier and a bit more cold.

 

“No, Scotty, are you kidding? I just wanna make sure you’re alright, is all.” Stiles propped himself up against the porch’s railing. Scott looked his friend up and down, he looked quite spiffy in his shirt and tie. They had just walked in near silence back from the cemetery where they’d just laid Scott’s mother to rest a few hours ago. Melissa McCall had been a nurse at the local hospital, where she’d contracted influenza from a patient. 

 

“I’m alright, Stiles. Really.” Scott’s voice betrayed his words. His voice faltered and cracked in the middle and he worked hard to keep the teats from leaving his eyes. Stiles could only feel helpless and lost, unable to make his best friend stop hurting. He stood approached Scott.

 

“Scott, it’s okay to not be alright. You’re the bravest guy I know, I ain’t never seen you shed a single tear. It’s alright not to be alright, Scotty. Listen, we can throw the couch cushions down, make a fort like we used to when we were kids.” Stiles bent down and moved the brick aside that hid the extra key to the McCall home. He handed it to Scott. “We’re in this together buddy. Don’t forget that. I’m with you til the end of the line.”

 

“I need to be alone, Stiles. I’m sorry.” Scott wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

 

“Don’t be sorry, Scotty. It’s alright. Don’t worry, Ma will cook up a bunch of food like she usually does and I’ll be back by later, alright? We’ll stuff our faces and listen to them records you like, huh buddy?” Stiles wrapped an arm around Scott’s shoulders. “Everything will be just fine.” Scott clenched his eyes tighter. He couldn’t stop the tears, and he couldn’t stop from burying his face into his best friend’s shirt. Stiles gently rubbed his back as Scott cried. 

 

“I want her to come back, Stiles…I want my mom.” Scott squeezed fistfuls of Stiles’ shirt. Stiles felt his own throat becoming tighter.

 

“Let’s get you in here, huh? C’mon.” Stiles unlocked the door and led Scott inside. The two walked to the sofa in the center of the living room and sat down, Stiles holding Scott and Scott holding onto Stiles. The pair sat like that for sometime, Scott feeling comfort from the proximity of his best friend and Stiles gently rubbing circles into his back. Scott would sniffle occasionally, the boy looked up into his friend’s brown eyes, he’d trace the moles on his slender face and smile. 

 

“I love you, Stiles.” Scott again buried his face in Stiles’ shirt, breathing deeply.

 

The sun was down and the stars were out by the time Scott had drifted off to sleep, but Stiles remained there, his best friend curled against him as he slept and dreamt.

 

“I love you too, Scott.”

 

…

 

“You knew him?” Lydia asked. Her tone was full of disbelief, but Scott expected that.

 

“I didn’t know he…I didn’t know he survived the fall. It doesn’t seem possible, but he did.” Scott said. His voice was shaky, he was gripping the edges of his shield and searching the ground for answers.

 

“That man was the Winter Soldier, Scott. Most of the intelligence community doesn’t even believe he exists, but S.H.I.E.L.D knows differently. He’s been active since the 1960’s, and incredibly prolific. Wherever he goes, a high body count follows. If the Winter Soldier is your friend, if he is Stiles…Are you ready for that?” She asked. Scott looked up.

 

“Ready for what?”

 

“If what Deaton told you was true, if S.H.I.E.L.D is compromised and HYDRA has control of Project Insight, the presence of the Winter Soldier can only mean he’s working for them. That makes us his next targets. We need to move quickly and destroy Project Insight before they can activate it. If Stiles tries to stop us, are you ready to make that decision?” Lydia asked. Scott thought long and hard, his gut was a knotted mess. 

 

“Do you still have the flash drive?” Scott asked. Lydia nodded.

 

“Not on me, but it’s safe.” Scott chewed on his lip.

 

“Deaton insinuated that the drive could help us destroy Project Insight. Have you looked through it yet?” A smile crept across her face.

 

“Of course I looked through it, though only briefly. Deaton copied the information he needed and told me to keep it safe.” A tingle went through Scott’s spine. If Deaton had already made plans for Lydia to have the flash drive, perhaps he knew about HYDRA’s infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D. already. 

 

“Have you heard anything about Deaton?” Lydia was slower to reply this time.

 

“Agent 13—“

 

“Agent 13?” Scott asked.

 

“Erica Reyes. Your neighbor. After evac, she took him to Mercy Central Hospital. He’s got a full security detail while he’s in surgery.” She rubbed her eyes. “We should know something by tomorrow.” 

 

The pair fell silent for a bit, Scott nervously gripping the rim of his shield and Lydia leaning against the wall.. The two were in for the mission of their lives. Scott found himself struggling to accept all of these recent events; Stiles coming back from the dead, Deaton being shot, and S.H.I.E.L.D. being overtaken by HYDRA operatives.

 

Yeah, saying they were in for the mission of their lives was an understatement.

 

“Is there anyone that can help us?” Scott asked. Lydia sighed.

 

“We can only assume most if not all S.H.I.E.L.D agents are compromised. Hale hasn’t been in the best of conditions lately, he’s been suffering from PTSD following what happened in New York. Deaton…well, Deaton may not make it out of this. I think—“ Lydia stopped abruptly. She turned and smiled at Scott.

 

“What?” He asked. Whenever Lydia smiled, Scott had learned to become suspicious. Last time she smiled like this, she’d leapt onto the back of a Chitauri craft and disabled it’s pilot.

 

“I know a girl.”

 

…

 


	5. Bad Religion

Kira Yukimura didn’t expect to see the country’s greatest hero standing on the other side of her door, and she certainly didn’t expect to see a Russian assassin standing next to him. She jerked opened the door and looked around for her neighbors. They’d want answers as to why Captain America and Black Widow were knocking on her door at one in the afternoon.

“Can…Can I help you, sir?” Kira said, suddenly serious and formal. Her years in the military taught her something about respect, and she realized that the Captain probably outranked her.

“May we come inside?” He asked. Something was up, he was fidgety and nervous. Kira stepped aside and allowed the two visitors to walk into her home. Shutting the door and locking it, Kira led them into the kitchen where Lydia was closing the blinds. Kira smiled at the pair and looked around her home. What was going on?

“Is this location secure?” Lydia asked. Kira was surprised—her home?

“I think so…?” She said. Lydia then walked over to Kira’s laptop and shut it. She looked back over to Kira, who stood with upraised eyebrows.

“They can see through your webcam. We need to be absolutely sure we’re safe.” She said matter of factly.   
“What’s going on?” Kira asked. This time, Scott moved to answer her question.

“We’re sorry to drag you into this, Miss Yukimura. Before we explain the situation, we need to know if we can trust you.” Scott said.

“You just came into my home and locked it down. I think I deserve some kind of explanation.” Scott and Lydia exchanged glances.

“Can we trust you?”

“Would I of let you in otherwise?” The pair were silent, then Scott spoke up.

“We’re on the run from S.H.I.E.LD. They’ve been infiltrated by HYDRA and branded us fugitives.” Kira looked surprised. Lydia continued. “Things have gone to shit really fast this week.”

“Is that the reason for all this cloak and dagger stuff?” She asked. Lydia nodded.

“Director Deaton, he’s been shot. He’s in critical condition, we don’t know if he’s gonna make it. Before he was…before he was shot, he told me about this program that S.H.I.E.L.D had been working on, called Project Insight. I can’t go into details right now, but if we don’t shut it down people will die.” Scott rested his hands on the table and looked hopefully at Kira. She shifted in her position leaning against the counter.

“We need to know if you’re willing to help us.” Lydia said. Kira looked confused.

“Why me?”

“You were on a shortlist of operatives being cleared for high level missions. I was in charge of reviewing each file, and your case stood out.” Lydia said. Kira smiled.

“Good to know I almost worked for HYDRA.” She joked. Scott barely managed a smile. Kira stood and sighed, letting her arms fall to her sides. “I can’t throw a shield and I’m not much good at beating up aliens, but I’m a Hell of a pilot.” She said. Scott looked at Lydia, concerned.

“Pilot? How’s that—?” 

“Show him what you flew, Kira.” Lydia said, silencing Scott. Kira smiled widely, baring her dazzlingly white teeth before slipping off into an adjoining room. Lydia looked smug, then looked at Scott.  
“She’s pretty, right?” Scott looked up in disbelief.

“We’re being hunted by S.H.I.E.L.D, and you’re trying to play matchmaker again?”

“We could be dead before the day’s out, gotta live it up while we can, Scotty.” Lydia responded. Scott huffed.

“She’s pretty, yeah. But now isn’t really the time to—“ Scott was cut off as Kira entered the room again, holding a manilla folder.

“Talking about me in here?” She asked. Scott’s face flushed red. “Don’t worry, Captain. I know I’m pretty.” She set the folder down in front of McCall. He picked it up gingerly, regarding the red stamped letters that spelled “top secret.” He looked at Kira, then Lydia. Shrugging, he flipped it open.

“Oh.” He sniffed. Skimming through the many paragraphs and pictures that accompanied the information. “Is this one of Hale’s inventions?” Kira laughed.

“I think he had something to do with it. Not much though, only a few were made and the project was cancelled after…After my partner was killed during a training exercise. Scott flipped the page, revealing a sheet of information over the man that Scott guessed was her partner. Vernon Boyd had been killed just a couple of years ago.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Scott said, closing the file and setting it on the table.

“No worries, time heals all wounds and what not, right?” Kira smiled. Scott forced himself to smile too, though his mind flashed back to Stiles. Time…didn’t always heal wounds like it was supposed to.

“I can’t ask you to do this, Kira.”

“Dude,” Kira said, rounding the table to stand in front of Scott, “Captain America needs my help. There’s no better reason to get back into the fight.” Scott smiled.

“Where is it?” Lydia asked. Kira looked from Scott to her, her expression hardening.

“It’s at Fort Mead, behind three guarded gates and a twelve inch thick steel wall.”  
Lydia smirked.

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” Scott said.

“Before we continue, we need to ask ourselves. Who’d have the power to declare us fugitives like this?” Lydia asked. Scott thought for a moment, then he felt his gut twist.

“The head of S.H.I.E.L.D.” He replied.

“Deaton? I thought you said he—“ Kira began.

“Not him. Argent replaced him after the assassination attempt.”

“If Argent has command over Project Insight now we don’t have as much time as we thought.”

“How can we destroy them? The helicarriers?” Scott asked. “How can we get that close?”

“We’d have to find someone who is in on the project. Who else would know?” Lydia asked. Scott thought for a moment, then brightened up with an idea.  
“Agent Deucalion was aboard the ship when you retrieved the data. He was really interested in it, do you think he’d know something?” Lydia shrugged.

“It’s worth a shot.” She grabbed the file off the table and sniffed. “But, first thing’s first.”

…

Agent Deucalion nearly choked on his salad when he looked at his ringing phone. Gerard Argent was calling him. He quickly swallowed the food he had in his mouth and scrambled to answer the call.

“Sir, good afternoon.”

“Agent Deucalion, good afternoon to you.” The voice on the other end was not Gerard’s. It was female. Duke looked around, suspicious.

“Who is this?”

“The dashing damsel across the street, your ten o’clock.” Duke searched the outdoor cafe across the busy D.C. street. When he found out who this was…

“Your other ten o’clock.” Kira said. He jerked his head the opposite direction, meeting the eyes of a young woman with raven hair. She smiled and waved at him. “See the gray sedan two places down from me?” Duke looked, eyeing the car. 

“What of it? How’d you get this number?” He barked.

“Never mind all that. You’re gonna get in the car, and we’re gonna take a ride.”

“Why would I do that?” Duke asked.

“Because that tie you’re wearing looks awfully expensive. It’d be a shame to mess it up.” Duke looked down at the silk tie he was wearing to discover a red dot contrasting with the blue fabric. He stood and threw a few bills on the table and crossed the street to the vehicle.

…


	6. Monks

Had Duke of braced himself before being thrown through the maintenance door, he probably wouldn’t of broke his nose. As he barreled over the roof of the high rise he’d been lead into, he couldn’t help but think of his blood staining his expensive suit.

“Tell us about Project Insight.” Scott McCall said, all too calm as he followed the man across the roof.

“What are you gonna do, McCall, kill me?” Scott grabbed the man by the collar and threatened to push him over the ledge.

“Maybe.” 

“C’mon, Cap. That’s not really your style.” Duke managed a smile. Scott nodded.

“You’re right.” He released the agent and smoothed the wrinkles on his suit. “It’s hers.” He stepped back then, and Duke hadn’t even seen Lydia Martin before now. With a swift kick, she sent him tumbling over the side of the ledge, screaming the whole way down. His yells grew distant, then suddenly grew once more to a crescendo as he was pulled back to the rooftop by Kira. The large, metal wings of her suit stretched into the sunlight, casting the shadow of a legendary bird of prey. She dropped Duke in front of Cap and Lydia and landed behind them with a graceful touch down.

“Tell us about Project Insight!” Scott roared, advancing on the crawling Deucalion. He held up a hand.

“Alright! Alright! Project Insight it’s a military operation, it’s to pacify targets—“

“What targets? Enemies of HYDRA?” Scott asked. Duke nodded.

“Them, yes! Them, you, her!” Duke pointed a finger at Lydia. “A kid in New York, Derek Hale, a television reporter in Cairo, Doctor Lahey, a valedictorian in Iowa City, anyone who could be a threat to HYDRA, now or in the future.” Duke coughed, blood dripping from his broken nose.

“In the future?” Lydia asked. “How would it know?” Duke chuckled.

“How couldn’t it?” Duke began to stand. “The twenty-first century is a goddamn digital book. HYDRA had just learned how to read it.” Duke looked at their confused faces. “Your bank records! Medical histories, voting patterns, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores!” Duke panted. “Project Insight evaluates people’s pasts to determine their future.”

“Then what?” Scott asked.

“Then the helicarriers scratch threats off the list. A few million at a time.”

…

Kira stepped on the gas. They had…commandeered a vehicle and had stuffed a reluctant Agent Deucalion in the backseat with the Black Widow. Scott fidgeted nervously in the passenger seat. Though they were on a highway just outside of the city, Scott anxiously watched the speedometer. Project Insight was scheduled to launch in less than twelve hours, and they were cutting it close.

“What’s the plan?” Kira asked. Scott looked up at her and then into the rearview mirror to make eye contact with Lydia.

“We’ll use Agent Duke to bypass security and enter the helicarriers and shut them down manually.”

“Are you crazy?! What makes you think you’d get within a hundred meters of the Triskeli—“ Duke was cut short as a thumb echoed through the car. Something had landed on the roof—

A metal arm suddenly burst through the glass and grabbed Agent Deucalion by the neck, lifting him from the seat and sending him through the air and into oncoming traffic. Lydia quickly raised her gun to the roof of the car and fired quick shots, each ripping holes in the metal roof and allowing sunlight inside. Kira swerved the car, shaking the threat from the roof and sending him skidding onto the road where he quickly righted himself and glared at the occupants of the vehicle.

“Stiles?” Scott’s voice was barely a whisper. Then, a large hummer slammed into the back of their car, sending the trio barreling down the road. Scott grabbed Lydia and Kira, and with a mighty heave broke the passenger door from the rest of the car and skidded across the highway, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake.

“Get down!” Lydia yelled, firing shots at the Winter Soldier when they had come to a halt. Kira leapt behind the crashed car and kept low, Scott arming himself with his shield only to be blasted off the overpass by a grenade that Stiles had thrown.

“Here!” Lydia slid a pistol toward Kira, who scooped it up and began firing at the HYDRA agents pouring from the hummer. Lydia watched as the Winter Soldier was handed an assault rifle, then he leapt over the barricade and to the busy street below.

“He’s going after Scott!” Kira yelled, gunning down a HYDRA operative.

“Can you handle this?” Lydia asked. Kira nodded. Lydia passed her an extra clip and jumped over the side as well, firing a grappling hook from her hidden gauntlet and landing safely on the asphalt below. She reached to her ear to activate the communication device to get in touch with Scott.

“Cap, do you have eyes on the Winter Sol—“ A metal fist crashed into her side, she doubled over in pain yet rolled to the side, aiming her pistol at the assassin. HE launched at her, grabbing her and attempting to slam her against a crashed van. She twisted up and over his shoulders and grabbed his neck, dropping her weight and flipping him over. They both grappled and issued strikes at one another, Lydia moving like a snake. She managed to wrap a garroting wire around his neck, thought not quick enough. His palm shot up to separate the thin wire from his neck, and wrestled Lydia from his shoulders and threw her against the crashed van. Angrily, he stomped toward her with his pistol drawn, then—-

Cap’s shield whipped through the air and knocked the pistol from his grasp. Stiles looked at Scott just as he barreled into the man, knocking him from the street and onto his back. 

“Stiles!” Scott roared, trying to keep his old friend restrained. Stiles’ metal hand wrapped itself around Scott’s neck and threw him off. Jumping up, Stiles charged toward Captain America and leapt into the air with his metal first raised. Scott rolled just in time as the Winter Soldier’s fist crushed the pavement beneath them. Scott kicked him off, launching him into the air just as Kira swooped in, her wings outstretched. She kicked Stiles hard in the gut, sending him careening over the ruined van. Suddenly, the vehicle exploded.

Lydia stood, meters away with an outstretched grenade launcher in her hands. She looked unsteady, but she had managed to fire the weapon. Bewildered, Scott looked at the swirling flames and black smoke, trying to find Stiles.

“Stiles!” Scott shouted. He was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, he became aware of the fleet of S.H.I.E.L.D armored vehicles that had surrounded them. Lydia had been pressed against a car, cuffs were being snapped onto her wrists. Kira was being pushed into an armored van. Scott felt a pain in his knees as he was kicked down, the barrel of gun stared him directly in the face.

“Not here!” He heard a voice shout. “Not here! Get him in the van!” Scott stared numbly at the broken cement. He allowed himself to be hoisted up and shoved into the armored van, the doors slamming as soon as he was clear.

…

“It was him.” Scott said to no one in particular. His eyes watched the floor of the van, where they were going he had no clue. “Stiles looked right at me, and he didn’t even know me.”

“How’s that possible?” Kira asked. “It was like, eighty years ago.”

“HYDRA. They must’ve found him, experimented on him.”

“None of that’s your fault, Scott.” Lydia said. Scott looked to the side, dejected.

“Even when I had nothing, I had Stiles.” He said sorrowfully. “I always had Stiles.”

“Quiet! No talking!” One of the armored guards shouted. The guard next to him brandished a shock baton, threatening to electrocute Kira. Then, the guard twirled the baton and shoved it into the other guard’s neck, incapacitating him as he dropped to the floor. Scott, Lydia, and Kira looked at the guard in shock.

A woman with black hair gasped for air once the helmet was off her face. She shook her head, allowing her long dark hair to fall down to her shoulders.

“Ugh, I couldn’t even hear my own voice in that thing.” Lydia grinned, as did Scott.

“Allison!” Scott cried. Allison had been Deaton’s right-hand woman during the Battle of New York. It was nice to see a friendly face. Allison looked over to Scott, then Kira.

“Who’s she?”

…

They had taken control of the transport van shortly after and diverged from the convoy. They had driven in silence for sometime, not stopping until they were deep in the woods and outside of a militaristic compound.

“Where are we?” Lydia asked as she hopped from the van. Allison looked out over the complex and turned to help Kira from the van.

“It’s a safe house. Hale helped us set this up, it’s where Lahey usually hides out when he’s…not feeling himself.” Scott chuckled. He knew what “not feeling himself” meant. Not feeling himself meant that Doctor Lahey turned into a ten foot tall rage monster.

“We’ll need to hurry. Get rested and reequip before we can take on HYDRA.” Scott said. Allison began leading them into the compound.

“Not yet. He’ll want to see you first.”

“Who?”

…

“It’s about damn time.” Deaton had said once they were inside the fortress. Scott simply stood in awe, Lydia had let a small gasp escape her lips. Deaton was alive, and he was here before them.

“Why all the secrecy? Why not just tell us you were here, and alive?” Scott asked.

“An attempt on my life had to look successful. HYDRA can’t kill you in you’re already dead. Besides, I didn’t know who I could trust.” Lydia scoffed.

“No offense, but Allison’s grandfather is the man behind all this. You had poor taste in choosing who to trust, director.”  
“We may be related, but Gerard is no grandfather of mine. His actions are not my own, Agent Martin.”

“If she were working with him, do you think she’d go through all the trouble to get us here?” Kira asked. The others fell silent.

“If we’re done arguing, I have something I’d like to show you.” Deaton motioned towards Allison who produced a black case from the shadows. She set it on the table and opened it up.

“Once the helicarriers reach a certain altitude, they’ll triangulate with the Insight satellites and become fully weaponized within seconds. Hale helped us whip these little babies up.” She turned the case toward the other three.

“What are those?” Scott asked.

“Within the helicarriers are targeting chips. You’ll need to board each carrier and exchange HYDRA’s chips for ours. Instead of targeting civilians, the helicarriers will target each other. Poetic justice, I’d say. HYDRA wants to take out the ‘bad guys’ so we’re giving them the chance to.”

Scott looked at Deaton.

“All three carriers, right? Should be a piece of cake.”

“We have to assume everyone onboard those carriers is HYDRA. If even one carrier survives, a whole lot of people are going to die. Hopefully, we can breach the carriers, access the mainframes and maybe, just maybe salvage some of S.H.I.E.L.D’s data—“

“We’re not salvaging anything, director.” Scott cut in. “We’re not just taking down these carriers, we’re taking down S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D had nothing to do with this, Cap.”

“You gave me this mission, this is how it ends. S.H.I.E.L.D was compromised by HYDRA for who knows how long, right under your noses! We’re not going to salvage a diseased system only to have HYDRA reemerge. A lot of people have died because none of you noticed it. If we’re starting this fire, it all burns.” Deaton sat back.

“Well, looks like you’re giving the orders now, Captain.”  
…

It was storming the first time they kissed. It was a few months after Scott’s mom’s funeral, Scott had been living on his own and trying real hard at it too. He’d taken to working an extra job to help cover expenses, not that they were many. They had inherited the house from Scott’s grandfather, so they didn’t have to pay rent of anything major like that, but they still had bills.

Rain pelted the windows of the old house like rocks. The thunder shook the old foundations and lightning would occasionally illuminate the blackened outside and cast gloomy shadows over the yard. Stiles had come over, and they’d decided it would be best if he simply stayed the night rather than to walk home in the inclement weather. It wasn’t long after the power had gone out that the two young men confided in each other to distract themselves from the wild wind outside.

“It’s really coming down, huh Scotty?” Stiles asked his friend. Scott nodded and looked around in the darkness for candles. Sometimes, he’d stub his toe and curse into the darkness.

“Raining cats and dogs out there.” Scott said, fumbling with the drawer of the desk in the living room. He withdrew four candles from the drawer, sliding it shut with hip. Now he just had to find some matches.

“Remember when we were kids, and we’d hide under your blankets all night when it rained? Your mom would come to get us up in the mornin’ and find us wrapped around each other like possums.” Stiles didn’t hear an immediate reply from his friend, so he knew had tapped on a sensitive subject. Stiles slapped his forehead and groaned. “Shit, Scott, I’m sorry pal. I didn’t mean—“

“Don’t worry about it Stiles.” Scott said as he struck a match. His uneven jawline was barely visible in the dim orange light as he held the wick to the flame. He set the candle on the coffee table and lit the others. “She’s gonna come up in conversation whether I like it or not.”

“I know buddy. I’m sorry anyhow, that doesn’t change the fact I shouldn’t of said anything.” Stiles replied. The pair were silent for sometime, then Stiles spoke up once more. “Hey Scott, wanna do it again?”

“Do what?” Scott asked. In the dim light, he could see Stiles smile broadly. The orange glow reflected off his white teeth.  
“Build a blanket fort, like when we young. I’ll run upstairs and grab ‘em, alright? It’ll be fun.” Stiles stood, heading for the stairwell.

“No, don’t.” Scott said. Stiles froze in his tracks. “I mean, don’t go up there. We keep the blankets down here, in the closet.” 

Stiles smiled again as he turned and pulled the closet door open. True to Scott’s word, there were piles of folded blankets and a few pillows on the shelf.

“Oh, Scotty. Forget the fort part, we’re building a palace.”

And so, for the next fifteen minutes or so Scott and Stiles busied themselves with laying the couch’s cushions on the floor and stacking the pillows all around. Then, they layered the blankets they found and formed a tent of sorts.

“After you.” Scott said, holding the largest blanket up to form a tunnel of sorts. Stiles and grinned and wiggled inside, careful not to disrupt the foundations of their fort. Scott soon followed suite, crawling in behind Stiles. They both moved around a bit so that they were next to each other. They stayed still for a few moments, listening to the pattering of the rain of the sides of the house. 

“We should’ve grabbed more blankets.” Scott said.

“Why’s that, buddy?” Scott shuffled around.

“I’m kinda cold, still.” Stiles squirmed, wiggling around to create more room for Scott. Then, he pulled his best friend into an embrace beneath the quilts.

“How’s that?” Stiles asked. Scott laid still for a few moments, allowing Stiles’ heat to radiate onto him. He smiled.

“Much better. Thanks.” Scott replied. Like two peas in a pod, the two snuggled together. Still, Scott was shivering slightly.

“Scott, you’re still cold.” Stiles observed. 

“I’ll be alright.” Scott replied. He felt Stiles’ hands climb up over his side and wrap around his stomach, then he was tugged closer to Stiles.

“I can feel your skin, buddy. You’re freezing.” Scott could feel his back pressed against Stiles’ chest. “What would you do without me?” Scott’s breath hitched. He’d just lost his mother, he didn’t want to think about losing Stiles too. Stiles must’ve heard Scott, he could feel his friend grumble low in his chest, displeased at his own choice of words. “Scotty, shit, sorry man. Hey, turn around.” Scott rolled over, now facing Stiles.

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I just don’t want to think about that, you know? You’re the only one I have left.”

“I’m not going anywhere Scotty, don’t worry. I’ll always be here for you.” Scott smiled and looked down at his socked feet.

“I hope so.” He felt Stiles’ arms wrap around him once more, and he pulled him into his chest.

“I’m always gonna be around.” He repeated. “I’m like a disease. You’ll never get rid of me.” Scott chuckled and shifted closer into his friend. Scott looked up, meeting Stiles’ eyes. They looked at each other for a moment, calculating their closeness. Scott felt himself warming up, and he wasn’t sure if it was from their proximity or…Something else.

“Stiles, I—“ Suddenly he couldn’t speak, his mouth was covered by Stiles’ own. He felt his best friend’s tongue sliding across his lips. Scott was still for a moment, shocked by the sudden movement, but then he returned the kiss. He felt Stiles’ hand creep up to the side of his face, and allowed it to curl into his hair. Then, Stiles pulled away.

“Scott, I-I think that, uh, I—“

“I love you Stiles.” Scott said. Stiles was silent for a moment, then smiled.

“You took the words out of my mouth, buddy.” Then, he leaned in for a second kiss.

…

Scott stood just outside of the safe house, searching the thick tree line for something he knew wasn’t there. He traced the leaves of the trees, watching them sway in the gentle breeze. He almost didn’t notice Kira walking up behind him.

“Scott? Can I talk to you?” She asked. Scott turned from his view and faced her, putting his hands in his pockets.  
“Yeah. What’s up?” 

“If this guy…” She cleared her throat. “If the Winter Soldier is your friend, are you ready to face that?” Scott thought for a moment.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s just…I don’t think this is the kind of guy you save. He’s the kind of guy you stop.” She said. Scott turned from her and looked back over toward the trees.

“I’m going to try. I have to.” He felt her hand being placed on his arm.

“I know, Scott. You know he’ll be there, in Washington. We have to stop Project Insight. Are you ready to make that kind of decision?” Scott sighed and looked at her again. The wind had tousled her raven hair, it gently swayed in and out of her eye line.

“I’ll have to be.”

…

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? I'll try to update regularly. Please leave me comments or send me messages on tumblr! You can find me at m-a-g-n-e-t-o.tumblr.com


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